The Royal Runaway

by Lindsay Emory

  “How did you find us?”

  “How many others are there?”

  Nick and I asked Tamar our questions simultaneously as soon as we reached the galley. She looked at Nick and then at me, answering mine first.

  “I triangulated the signal on your phone, when you finally turned it on.”

  I didn’t have to look at Nick to know that he’d have “I told you so” written all across his dark glower.

  “My secret phone, you mean.” I had to point that out, but Tamar looked confused.

  “Yes, the one you used to talk to His Grace.”

  Nick had been right when he’d said I was naive about that secret phone. I didn’t want to be naive any longer.

  “Are there others out there, Tamar? Who else did you bring with you?”

  She shook her head. “I came alone. The search for you was focused on Ceillis House. Now they’ve gone up to the Claytere summer cottage.”

  The last two places that Nick had found black discs tucked behind paintings. My brain shied away from the obvious implication of this news.

  But Nick didn’t. “Is the palace searching for my brother, too?”

  Tamar threw him a challenging look. “Why would they do that?”

  “Tamar . . .” I murmured. “I have learned that Christian might not have returned to Scotland, as I was told. Have you heard anything?”

  She looked indecisive for a half second before answering me. “We’ve been very occupied looking for you, Your Highness. But I know that the two guards who were assigned to His Grace recently returned from abroad.”

  “So they thought he was in Scotland, too,” I said, wondering whether that should be comforting or not.

  Tamar interrupted that thought. “They didn’t go to Scotland.”

  “Where did they go?” Nick demanded.

  “The Cayman Islands.”

  I met Nick’s eyes.

  Finally. A clue. A direction we could go in. It had started to feel as if Christian had just disappeared into the ether and now we had a starting point, which had led us straight back to the Cayman papers. “Would you like a drink? Some water?”

  I moved toward the refrigerator, intending to be a little more welcoming to Tamar, but I had taken only a few steps out of the way when my two squabbling guard dogs made their moves. Faster than a blink, Tamar brandished a sidearm and pointed it at Nick. And nearly simultaneously, Nick had a firearm in his hand, pointing it at Tamar.

  “What are you doing?” I cried out. “Tamar, put that down!”

  “Your Highness, you’re safe with me now.”

  “Over my dead body,” Nick snarled.

  “If that’s how it has to be, then I’ll do so gladly.”

  “Nick, please, this is crazy!” I threw up my hands. “Both of you, just stop!”

  “He’s working against you, Your Highness.”

  “Me? I’m not the one refusing a command.”

  “I took an oath,” Tamar sneered.

  “To shoot at your princess?”

  “I was shooting at you.” Another snarl from Tamar.

  Nick lifted a shoulder casually. “Well, since you missed me the first time, I’m feeling decidedly more confident now.”

  Tamar smiled slightly, a chilling sight from my usually deadpan bodyguard. “I won’t miss this time.”

  “No one is shooting anyone!” I tried sounding regal and authoritative, but it was coming off as a little panicky.

  This wasn’t happening. No one was getting shot today. And if they wouldn’t obey my orders (or desperate pleas), I’d have to figure out another way to stop the madness.

  I walked forward until I was in between the two barrels.

  Nick growled my name. Tamar muttered a Driedish curse.

  I held out both my hands. “Give them to me.” I wasn’t taking the chance that they’d lower their weapons and then shoot as soon as my head wasn’t in the way.

  “Your Highness, I—” Tamar started to protest.

  I cut her off. “I don’t trust you. And you—” I threw a look over at Nick, whose face could have killed me faster than a bullet. But I couldn’t finish that statement. He cared for me, and that was why I knew I couldn’t trust him.

  Because he would kill Tamar if he thought it would protect me.

  “Hand both of them over, now,” I said.

  Grudgingly, they both did as they were told, but I had an Israeli-trained former soldier and an ex–Royal Marine MI6 agent in close quarters. Tamar could probably kill someone by jamming her fingers up his nose. Nick would definitely have no problem throwing Tamar’s head against the wall. I could rule nothing out.

  I pointed Tamar’s gun at my own head. “Check her for more weapons,” I ordered Nick, and he responded with mouthing, “You’re crazy.” And then he did what I said and patted Tamar down, finding nothing.

  Now what did I do? I had Nick’s gun in my left hand and Tamar’s pointed at my temple. Nick was right; I was crazy. If I ever returned to the palace, I was going to get trained on tactical handgun techniques. But for now, I would do what I could to make sure no one died on this boat tonight.

  “All right, both of you above board. Tamar first.” I followed her, gun still to my head, with Nick behind me. The fact that he didn’t try to pull me down probably meant there was a high likelihood that I was about to accidentally kill myself. When we were all on deck, I went straight to the railing and threw both guns into the river.

  I brushed my hands. “Like I said, no one is shooting anyone.”

  Tamar and Nick both crossed their arms and glared at me like children who had been told they couldn’t play their favorite game anymore.

  “Tamar, why are you here?”

  She frowned as if I’d asked the question in another language. “You disappeared from the museum and didn’t return to the palace. No one’s heard from you and you were with him.” She wrinkled her nose at Nick like he smelled bad. “We assumed you’d been kidnapped.”

  “But you came here alone. You said royal security are searching other areas. Why are you not with them? Or why did they not come with you?”

  Again she gave Nick the side eye. “I thought a large group might alert this one.”

  Nick didn’t look happy with that answer and I can’t say it sat well with me, either, but none of this had felt right, starting with Christian’s disappearance.

  “Did you think you were going to rescue me by yourself and bring me back to the palace?” I tried asking gently, because at that moment I wasn’t quite sure where I wanted to go, if I wanted to go anywhere at all.

  “Your Highness. It is vitally important that you return with me tonight. If you do not, Her Majesty plans to request formal military support to search for you tomorrow morning. The Prime Minister will have to be informed of your absence, and your family will be informed as well. The cost of a national search will . . .” Tamar’s dark brown eyes were clouded with worry. “The palace will subjected to intense scrutiny.”

  I understood the implications of what she was saying. After the exorbitant costs of a royal wedding that never was, the Liberals in Parliament would seize the opportunity to once again illustrate the wastefulness of the royal family, the irresponsibility of the Crown, and the uselessness of supporting a group of people who couldn’t lead functioning, normal lives without hand-holding.

  “Thank you, Tamar.” I gestured toward the gangplank. “I need to think about this.”

  “You want me to leave?”

  “You can wait on the shore. I promise you, this boat can’t go very fast. I won’t be able to escape you again.”

  Tamar didn’t move for a minute, as she seemed to assess the potential risks of my directions. Then she reluctantly walked across the gangplank and back onto the grassy bank of the canal.

  I avoided Nick’s gaze and went below deck. He followed a few minutes later and entered my cabin without knocking.

  “You can’t go back there. It’s not safe. Your own security took shots
at you, Princess.”

  “Tamar said they were shooting at you.”

  He made a face as if he didn’t care. “They disobeyed your order to stand down. Someone was trying to stop you from talking to me.”

  “You heard what Tamar said. Tomorrow the whole country will be looking for me, even if we manage to get away from her today.”

  Nick scowled. “Bullshit.”

  “Which part?”

  “She came here alone? Without backup? Without notifying her superiors that she had a signal on your cell phone? Something isn’t right.”

  “You’re just mad she got by you.”

  “Only because you turned on the damn phone!”

  His voice rose, and that reminded me.

  “Did you want to kiss me?”

  “What?” He shook his head, giving me a why-are-you-bringing-this-up-when-your-life-is-in-danger look.

  “When I had a gun pointed at my head. It was a dangerous situation, don’t you think? Did you feel the urge to kiss me?”

  “I had the urge to bash your head in with a frying pan.”

  “I think that’s illegal.”

  “It’s funny that you think a law is the reason I didn’t do it.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to do.” I reverted to our first debate. “We can’t leave. Tamar would have helicopters on us in minutes.”

  “Oh, I can make sure she doesn’t.”

  “No shooting!”

  He lifted his hands. “Who said anything about shooting her?”

  “No poking your fingers in her nostrils, then.”

  He looked alarmed . . . and confused. “What?”

  Ugh. I couldn’t explain it now. “I’m going back.”

  That didn’t make Nick happy at all. “Several people who Christian worked with have died or disappeared in the last six months. What’s to say you won’t be next?”

  “Why would anyone try to kill me? I didn’t work with him at the firm. I didn’t know those papers existed the entire time we were together.”

  “What if the people who were targeting Christian’s firm don’t know that? What if they assume two people who were getting married told each other everything?”

  I had no answer for that.

  Nick continued, “What if it’s not about the papers at all?”

  That got my full attention. “What else would it be?”

  “A thousand things, Princess.” His voice had softened. “You can’t go back.”

  “We’ve exhausted our avenues out here.” I shook my head and grew more determined. There was no other option. Once my grandmother made the search for me public, finding Christian would be impossibly complicated. My ability to move around basically undetected would vanish in a heartbeat. The monarchy would once again be a target for Anders and the Liberals in Parliament. I was thoroughly boxed in between duty and my thwarted desires. I felt the weight of a nation as I shrugged. “Any information we need to know about Christian’s last days in Drieden can only be found in the city. Inside the palace.” It was our last and best chance to solve the mystery.

  From the resigned expression on Nick’s face, I suspected he’d already thought through this, too, but he still protested. “You’re a fish in a barrel there.”

  “Not if I have someone looking out for me.”

  He made a disgusted face and nodded toward the canal bank, where Tamar presumably waited for me. “You trust her to watch out for you? When she didn’t listen to your orders?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  He sighed in relief.

  “I trust you to watch out for me,” I said.

  He stilled. “You speak perfect Driedish,” I continued. “As far as anyone in the family knows, you’re additional security that my father hired to watch me. No one will call Father to ask, and if they do, he’ll remember that he saw you with me at Ceillis House and assume that it was all his idea. If Tamar and Hugh have a problem with it, I’ll remind them that you’re Christian’s brother. Why wouldn’t you be doing everything in your power to find out what happened to him?”

  “Thea . . .”

  I stopped him with a princess hand held up. “As my new security officer, you’ll have access to the records about Christian. We’ll be able to piece together that end.”

  “And what will you be doing?” His crossed arms and furrowed brow told me he wasn’t convinced. Yet.

  “The Driedish government has access to the Cayman papers.”

  “So does the British government, Princess. You don’t think I have people who can look into this?”

  “Once I’m back, I can determine what Christian knew and who else knew about the papers.”

  “And who would want to keep him quiet.”

  Last chance to run away.

  As if he could hear the voices inside my head, he touched my cheek with the back of his hand. “Are you sure? Remember our conversation last night?”

  I nodded, my throat suddenly raw.

  “Sometimes it’s a lot simpler to pretend to die than to deal with your family.”

  If there was the slightest chance that Nick was right, that the palace had orchestrated Christian’s disappearance, then I couldn’t in good conscience let this go.

  I looked into his eyes and felt the internal rush he always triggered. “Nothing is simple,” I said. “Not anymore.”

  Then I reached up and did the most complicated thing. I pulled his head down and kissed him.

  After a moment, he kissed me back and I knew we were both in way over our heads.

  As much as I didn’t want to believe it, no one could have planted a bug in the Crown Prince’s house without someone on the inside, and only someone inside the palace could find out the truth.

  It had to be me.

  twenty-two

  WE ARRIVED AT THE PALACE a few hours later. This time, there was no sneaking in. The gates opened when Tamar’s dark sedan pulled up and the guard took one glance at her, and then at me, and waved us through.

  It was a bit anticlimactic, to tell the truth.

  Tamar excused herself to go check in with the security office, but Nick stayed glued to my side as I went up the back way—through the administrative offices to the West Wing elevator, taking a right, and then standing face-to-face with the retina scanner.

  “I’ll let you in this time, but I’ll have to get the staff to set up your retina scan,” I told him.

  “It’s not my first rodeo, Princess.”

  After we went through the scanner, we headed to my apartments, where Nick started unpacking a selection of technological devices from the knapsack he’d brought from the houseboat. In less than five minutes, he’d scanned my rooms with his gadgets, and since he hadn’t gone straight to the Renoir over my bed or my Grisden hanging above the mantel and extracted a matte-black disc, I supposed I was in the clear.

  My apartments were fairly simple. As a single woman, I didn’t need much space, especially when I had ten acres of grandeur around me. There was the living room, my bathroom, my closet-slash-dressing room, my bedroom, my office, and a tiny second bedroom that had a single bed shoved in a corner.

  At some point, my apartments had been occupied by Princess Carlotta, the young widow of Prince Franz-Gregor, and the tiny second bedroom had been the nursery for her children when they were ill. Because things were practically never remodeled in the palace, this tiny nook with a single bright window had remained, even though Carlotta’s children had been in St. Julien’s graveyard for nearly a century.

  This is where I took Nick next, opening the door and gesturing toward the neatly made bed, which was freshly changed by the maids every week despite the fact that I hadn’t had a guest here in . . . ever. “You can put your things over here,” I told him. “If you need an étagère, I can call a steward.”

  “No.” Nick turned around and went back to my bedroom. He dropped his pack. Eyed my bed.

  “No!” I said.

  He lifted his eyebrow. “You didn’t have a pro
blem sharing at Sybil’s.”

  “If you thought it was too dangerous there, you haven’t met Hugh yet.”

  “Hugh?”

  “My lead security officer.”

  Nick crossed his arms. “And this Hugh regularly invites himself into your bedroom?”

  He had me there. But I refused to give in so easily. “Well, he would. If there was an emergency. A fire. Or a bomb . . . or some other sort of explosion.”

  Nick gave me a look that showed he wasn’t impressed. “And this very protective Hugh, why wasn’t he the one who came to get you instead of the woman?”

  I didn’t know, and for some reason, that bothered me slightly. “I’m sure he was working elsewhere,” I said, yet another lame answer, which Nick didn’t acknowledge. He jerked a thumb at the guest room. “No exterior door there. I’ll take the couch.”

  “The couch?” I echoed as I followed him back into my living area. My couch was tiny, hard, and narrow. It was meant for meetings with my stylist and secretary. It wasn’t designed for a tall, broad Scotsman to lie on.

  Not like my antique, four-poster canopied bed literally meant for a queen.

  “You can’t sleep there.”

  Nick dropped his backpack on the couch.

  “It’s pink.”

  He lifted his shoulders. “I like pink.”

  “It’s uncomfortable.”

  “I’ve had worse.”

  He seemed a bit more distant after that, more professional, and when he asked me where the security offices were, I called an aide immediately to show him down.

  I could have done it myself, but it seemed like we both needed some space. If life on the boat had been tight, I knew that life in 700,000 square feet could be suffocating.

  Nick returned hours later, after I had already readied for bed. My door was closed, and I was tucked in when I heard the knock and his low voice.

  “Yes?” I called out.

  He didn’t answer and I didn’t hear his voice again.

  • • •

  LUCY ALWAYS HAD HER PRIORITIES straight. She rushed into my sitting room the next morning, first crushing me in a tight hug, then pouring me a cup of coffee and giving Nick the stink eye. “Who are you?”